Unpleasant Memories
by JonathanDP81
Summary: We all know Duke has a dark past, but just how dark?


Disclaimer: The Mighty Ducks and all related characters are the property of Walt Disney. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is being made.  
  
This story and all original characters and concepts are the property of the author.  
  
The following is rated PG-13 for violence.  
  
  
Unpleasant Memories  
A Mighty Ducks: The Animated Series Fanfic  
By Jonathan D. H. Parshall  
  
  
I've been looking for an original sin  
One with a twist and a bit of a spin  
And since I've done all the old ones  
Till they've all been done in  
Now I'm just looking  
And I'm gone with the wind  
Endlessly searching  
For an original sin…  
- Taylor Dayne and Jim Steinman  
"Original Sin (Theme from The Shadow)"  
"The Shadow" Original Motion Picture Soundtrack, 1994  
  
  
Duke l'Orange hadn't had much trouble with the security system of the museum. He fought back the urge to chuckle as he thought about how easy it had been. The whole system was an antique, almost twenty years old. Hardly a challenge for a member of the Brotherhood of the Blade.  
  
The twenty-one year old Duke looked much different than he would years later as a Mighty Duck. He still had his right eye and there was no chip in his beak. Instead of his later maroon or purple costume, he was dressed completely in black with a mask over his face. There was no duck saber on his shoulder, only a normal fencing saber hanging from his belt. Duck sabers were tough to get, as they were very expensive and highly illegal. He was working at it, through. However different he looked, if you looked closely you could see the mischievous tinkle in his eye that would stay with him.   
  
It was practically pitch black in the hallway. But Duke's nearly cat-like eyes were able to pick up enough light to make this down the hall. He stopped as he came to a locked set of doors with a numbered keypad on the wall beside them. Duke had to force down a laugh as he saw that some guard too lazy to remember the code had scratched it into the metal above the keys. He softy punched the numbers in and the doors opened almost silently.  
  
Ah, yes. Here we go. The main display room. And in the center was his goal. The Quackermen Diamond. Not the largest diamond on Puckworld, but probably the most perfect. It shimmered in the small, soft light placed above it.  
  
As Duke got to work on the protective case surrounding the jewel, he thought about how this was his ticket to a high position in the Brotherhood. A catch like this one was a once in lifetime thing. And it seemed no else had even tried. The public was fed so much claptrap about it having the most advanced security system on the planet protecting it that all the other Brothers had given it up as too risky. Seems the museum spent its cash on publicity, not on security upgrades.  
  
Using his small but powerful laser, Duke soon had cut a hole through the transparent material. He carefully eyed how the diamond was resting. After years of practice, he could spot a pressure trigger a mile away. After a few moments, he concluded there was none. Duke could barely believe it. The museum had skipped on a cheap and effective security measure. He made a note to himself to lie when asked about how difficult this had been.  
  
As he slowly reached in to take the jewel, he caught a movement out of corner of his eye. In less than a second he had his sword out and was in a fighting stance. As his eyes scanned the room, a figure stepped out of the shadows. Dressed in black, just like he including a mask, a nearly identical sword at the ready. Another member of the Brotherhood, after the same prize.  
  
For a few moments they stood still, sizing each other up. They seemed to both be about equal psychically. This fight was going to won by whoever was more skillful with the blade.  
  
The stranger was the first to attack, lunging lighting-like at Duke. Duke blocked the blade with a practiced skill. The blades clanged against each, with each fighter attacking, then defending. The two moved around the room, both being careful not to be pinned against a wall. Neither fighter seemed to be able to gain any sort of advantage over the other.  
  
After nearly ten minutes of fencing, sweat poured down Duke's face. He knew he had to end this soon. A guard would be here any minute on his nightly rounds. A guard with a gun. It was an unspoken rule in the Brotherhood that its members never carry one, so neither of the fighters did.   
  
As he thought this, the other fighter make a slight mistake, leaving himself unprotected for a fraction of a second. Duke took advantage of it, plunging his sword into his opponent's chest.  
  
Duke's eyes widened and he went pale as he realized what he done. He always aimed for shoulder so his foe would be unable to hold his sword. In the excitement he'd missed. His blade had gone straight through the stranger's heart.  
  
The black-clad figure slid slowly to floor, blood soaking his shirt. Duke watched for the few seconds it took for him to die.  
  
Oh, god. A deep sadness gripped him. He'd never wanted to take another's life. He had known for years that the great majority of the Brotherhood's leaders were known to have killed someone, some suspected of a great deal more than just one. Yet, deep down, Duke had always hoped it would never be necessary for him to the same.  
  
The evil part of him screamed in his head that there was no time to be regretful. He had to grab the jewel and get the hell out of there. Duke carefully pulled his sword out of the dead figure and moved back to the display case. He picked up the diamond and stuck it in his pocket. Glancing down at the dead body as he left, he suddenly stopped in his tracks and an icy feeling gripped his heart. The sword in the body's figure looked way too familiar.  
  
A feeling of dread washing over him, Duke bent down and slowly pulled the mask off the figure's face.  
  
No. Dear lord, no. This couldn't possibly be true. He closed his eyes, willing the sight before him to disappear. When he opened them again, the nightmare image was still there. Oh god. What had he done? Kelsey.  
  
Kelsey Fairfeather was one of just a few female members of the Brotherhood. It wasn't that women weren't allowed, just generally frowned upon. Duke and Kelsey had both been inducted in the Brotherhood at the same time, both at eighteen. The same ceremony, in fact, along with about five others, one of them Falcone. The three of them had seen the talent in each other and had quickly banded together to help each other through their tough apprenticeship. During the three years it took to become a full member, Duke and Kelsey became much more than friends. They had become lovers. In past weeks Duke had been seriously considering asking her to become his wife. He even had a ring, locked securely in his room. Now it was too late.  
  
The tears flowed down his face as he held her to his chest. He could the feel the warmth quickly slipping away from her. 'You have to get out of here' the evil part of them whispered. 'You want to get caught?' He slowly and carefully picked up Kelsey, holding her reverently.   
  
It was near thing getting out of the museum. In his unbridled grief, he twice nearly walked right into a security guard. But his thieving instincts took over and he was two blocks away before he heard the alarms go off.  
  
In dark alley, behind a Dumpster, he leaned against a wall. He didn't stop himself as he slowly slid down till he was on the ground. He stared into the face of his dead love, still cradled in his arms. He cursed God, Drake DuCaine, the Brotherhood, fate, and anything and everything else for the cruel coincidence had caused this horror. But most of all he cursed himself. It was his fault. It was all his fault. He had coldly murdered her.  
  
He must have been there for over an hour, tears flowing the whole time. It was about three in the morning when he finally got up. With practiced ease, he broke into a car parked on the street, hot-wired it in record time, and drove off.  
  
Stopping only for a quick break-in at a hardware store, Duke drove out of the city, Kelsey in the back seat. He hated what he was about to do, but there didn't seem to an alternative. He could feel her dead eyes pointed straight at the back of his neck. Accusing him. "Murderer."  
  
He had been driving for nearly two hours before he reached his destination. Wingstone Planetary Park. It was one of the smaller nature preserves scatted across Puckworld, one of the ones that didn't get all that many visitors. It was still beautiful, through.  
  
He went well into park before pulling over at the side of the road. Opening the back door, he lifted Kelsey out, along with the shovel he had stolen in the hardware store. He walked straight in the dark woods.  
  
It was ten minutes before Duke reached the perfect spot. It was a small clearing with a spectacular view of the mountains beyond. The first tendrils of dawn poked out from beyond them.  
  
"Beautiful, isn't it, Kel?" Duke murmured softly. He slowly lowered her to the ground. Taking the shovel, he began to dig.  
  
The sun had just come out from over the mountains when he finished the grave. He picked Kelsey up again, giving her a kiss on the forehead before lowering her in. He closed his eyes as he began to shovel the dirt back in. The thief didn't want to see the dirt hit his beloved's face.  
  
It was eight-thirty when Duke made it back to his small room in a Brotherhood controlled apartment building. Part of himself felt relief at him not meeting anyone oh his way up. The blood on his shirt would be hard to explain. Locking his door securely behind him, he fell down on his bed, all control leaving as he broke down.  
  
It was hours later before he lifted his damp face up from his pillow. He spied the rather large knife that he always kept on the nightstand by his bed for protection. Lifting himself up to a sitting position, he grabbed the knife and spent several minutes staring at it, one hand idly fingering the sharp point.  
  
His mind was filled with thoughts of his guilt and how easy it would be to turn the knife on his self. The hand holding it tightened its grip. He felt almost detached from what was happening. He watched dully as his hand raised the blade. He gasped at the feel of it cutting into him. The pain was intense. He could feel himself keel over, off the bed…  
  
  
Duke awoke screaming. His hand was clutched to his chest where the point had gone in. He was breathing in short, frequent gasps. It was several moments before he realized he was in his bed at the Pond.  
  
His breathing began to slow. He held his head in his hands. He remembered gratefully that walls between the group member's rooms were soundproofed. There would be no one rushing in to ask embarrassing questions.  
  
Duke's bed was soaked with sweat. He glanced up at his bedside clock. 4:23 AM. He lay back down, knowing that he wasn't getting anymore sleep this night.  
His left hand felt the scar on his chest. He had been so close. A quarter-of-an-inch over and he would have punctured his heart. He wouldn't have woken up on the floor, still alive, the knife poking out of him.  
  
He had just managed to stagger out his doorway and collapse at the feet of a guy in the hallway. Weeks later, when he'd been finally released from the infirmary, he could see the looks on the other members when they saw him. His rather obvious suicide attempt coupled with Kelsey's mysterious disappearance caused the rumor mill to go into overdrive. No one ever asked him anything directly, that just wasn't done in the Brotherhood, but Duke overheard whispers of him being thrown out. He knew those who left the Brotherhood for any reason tended not to live very long, so he was tempted to let them.  
  
But part of him urged him to solder on, so, in the weeks following his release, he went on the greatest thieving spree of his life. The amount and quality of what he brought in silenced the rumors and brought him back into good standing.  
He managed to keep up a front of acting like his old self but he still felt hollow. Kelsey's death grated at him every moment of day. He threw himself into his life in the Brotherhood. It wasn't long before he became one of the best thieves they had. There was talk of him becoming the next leader. He still loved the excitement of his life, but with each passing week and year it seemed more and more a waste of time.   
  
Duke was almost glad with the Saurians came. The stealing of supplies for the people had made him feel better than had for years. When Canard rescued him from the work camp and he joined the resistance, he'd felt normal for the first time in years because of this sudden new desire to help people he'd never had before. The cockiness and dry humor he'd had before began to come back.  
  
The other Mighty Ducks didn't know it, but he had decided even before he'd left Puckworld never to return to the Brotherhood. His work with the resistance and later with the Ducks had proven to way to repay for his hideous crime. It kept him sane.  
  
It kept him from going insane from the nightmare. The cold retelling of what had happened had visited him regularly at least once a month. Each time he had the dream the idea of suicide came to him new. And each time he had rejected it. First because of fear of death. That wasn't the case now. He was no longer afraid of death. The reason he held on was for the others. He loved them too much for them to make them have to deal with his death. And the longer he was with them he had the dream less and less. He was nearly at peace now; finally with a group he cared for and cared for him.  
  
As he closed his eyes, he closed his hand over the ring hanging from the chain on his neck. A voice in his head whispered 'Tell them'. He whispered back 'Maybe someday.'  



End file.
